There are three wooden steps
from the porch to the ground
he shines like a coin
he rests on my porch
like a star on a tree
the wood creaks
when I step on the porch
the sunlight catches
the flash of his tail
he comes to my porch
he shines like the edge
of a moon made of steel
there are three wooden steps
from the porch to the ground
and I marvel
at the effort he makes
at the struggle it takes
to rest at the top
like a lord or a king
the wood creaks
he leaves like the summer
and I must confess
I’ve said I’m sorry
to the flash of his tail
there are light-years
from the porch to the ground
and I am a second-comer
at best.